No Talking
by Roslin Fan
Summary: Kara and Saul form unusual drinking buddies after New Caprica...


He went to her quarters and she wasn't there. Kara. He shook his head. It wasn't like it was easy or convenient to travel between the ships. But if that's what it took to stay married to her, that's what he'd do. Gods, she was difficult, but he loved that about her.

He stepped into the corridor. Figuring out how to kill the time. "You looking for Kara?" Dualla asked from behind him.

He turned to her. She looked stressed. Sad. This-whatever it was-wasn't working for any of them. He nodded. "Yeah, you seen her?" And please don't say she's with your husband.

"She's probably at Joe's with Col. Tigh."

"Col. Tigh?" He raised an eyebrow.

"They've been drinking together. A lot." She paused. "Surprised all of us, if you knew them before. They've come to blows in the past."

He snorted. "I've seen that before." He softened his gaze at Dee. "Thanks."

She nodded. "Between you and me, I'm relieved."

"Yeah." He wasn't too sure about that.

He headed in the direction of Joe's. He could use a drink himself.

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"Should I be jealous?"

The voice came from her rack. Kara walked (not stumbled) toward the sound-her husband. She crawled in without touching him. Touching would be for later-to keep him from talking and her from feeling. "What are you doing here?"

"You called me, remember? A quick frak because that's all I'm good for." The hurt in his eyes belied the anger in his tone. She tried to ignore it. What he wanted, she couldn't give. Not yet, maybe not ever. "I didn't see you, so I knew where to look. You and Tigh, huh?"

As if. Kara rolled her eyes. "We drink."

"Dualla says you drink a lot."

What would she know about it? "Dualla. There's an idea. Maybe she should be your wife."

He snorted. "I'm pretty sure we're both in love with other people."

"That's the problem, isn't?"

He nodded. "And Tigh?"

"We drink."

"You talk to him, though, right? You tell him what's in that head of yours. Your special destiny."

"No. I. Don't. We don't talk." Not like that anyway. In fact, they had an unspoken agreement not to talk. She doesn't mention Ellen. He doesn't ask about the dollhouse, or her marriage, or anything in the 'no fly zone.'

"And you don't frak?"

She looked at him hard. "If I was with him, would I bother calling you?"

She lifted up her shirt and tanks. He took that as the sign to shut up and frak, thank the gods.

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"He thinks we're frakking."

Tigh looked at her. His one free eyebrow raised. "Sam? And us? What?!" He snorted.

Kara snickered. "I know right?"

"What are we doing, Kara?"

She shrugged. "Frak if I know."

"If I become the XO again will you go back to hating me?"

She grinned. "Who says I don't hate you now?"

He chuckled, and then she started laughing. He got it. They both got it. They stopped laughing and continued drinking.

When they were finished, he said, "I'm reporting in tomorrow."

She nodded. "Good. The Old Man needs you."

He nodded. His composure already morphing into that of the XO.

"Goodnight, Col." She saluted him.

If he was surprised, he didn't act it. He snapped a return salute. "Captain Thrace."

Then he walked out of the rec room. Kara had another drink.

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He was off duty, and the first thing he wanted to do was hit Joe's. Kara, er, Captain Thrace was there. In their usual spot. He sat next to her. "Captain."

She shot him a grin. "Col."

Joe handed him his usual, and Saul nursed it. "Today, huh."

"Today."

It hadn't gone well. With the fleet's refrigeration down and their food supply spoiled. It just...wasn't a good day. Laura and Bill were dealing with the brunt of it. He was glad they had each other at least. A partnership-maybe more. He couldn't be sure. Bill refuses to talk about her. It's always "The President this and The President that." Saul saw the longing there and the respect. Well, Saul didn't have anyone. Not anymore.

They sat in silence nursing their drinks.

"We'll be okay, Col. The mission will..."

He nodded. "The Old Man will see us through."

She snorted. "And Madame President will talk us all through it on the radio."

He thought for a moment. Roslin could be a naive schoolteacher sometimes, but she had some real guts. She was a thousand times the President that frakweasel was. "I thought it was good. Real, you know?"

She nodded.

"Does Anders still think we're..."

She shook her head. "Not you and me, anyway."

He nodded. "Maybe I gave you the wrong advice."

She snorted. "You taking the blame for my frakked up marriage?"

He grunted. "I guess not." He downed his glass, and Joe was right there with another one. "It's tough. Love...it's tough."

She turned to him. It looked like she was going to say something, but she burst out laughing instead. "Man, you really suck at speeches."

He chuckled. Glad to have made her laugh at least. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed the old Starbuck. It was good to see her-even for a few seconds. "Well, I leave the fancy speeches to the Old Man and Madame President."

She downed her glass. "You're right. It is hard."

Didn't he know it?

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She was gone. Bill, Apollo, Anders. They were all a mess. The crew had no idea what to do. The invincible Starbuck. The practical joker. The cocky pilot with a bad attitude was gone.

He went to Joe's after his shift. Sat in their usual spot. Joe placed a glass in front of him and said, "I'm sorry, Col. I know she was your friend."

He nodded. She was, wasn't she? "Thank you."

He raised his glass. "To Starbuck. The craziest pilot I've ever seen and the best person to have in your corner." Then he chugged it, slamming the empty glass on the counter.

He looked at Joe. "I think that's enough for one night."

He'd rather mourn her in his quarters. Quickly. She needed him to look after the other men in her life. Love was...tough, and it had been the toughest on her.


End file.
